


What was left

by astrophelthracius



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, F/M, Other, Superpowers, Unrequited Love, jon snow angsting, weirdness going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrophelthracius/pseuds/astrophelthracius





	What was left

"Jon?" Twenty years, decades of longing, years of suffering and now he finally hears his name on those blessed lips. Jon snow, bastard of house stark and sinner in the eyes of the old gods is finally at the end of his misery. "Jon...wh-what are you doing here?" Ah... the south, why was he here? To serve his lord brother and beloved for the last time, to hear his voice again, to see him? He opted not to answer and instead opened his eyes to gaze upon his brother. His wife was standing tall behind him and Jon chuckled at the cruelty of the gods. He closed his eyes, he'd seen what he needed to and done what had to be. "Jon! Don't you fall asleep on me." The desire to comply was the only thing tying him to this earth, away from the land of the dragons where he belonged. Robb...he had given up everything for his brother. His vows to the night watch, his vows to the gods, his very person and yet it earned him nothing but a brother's affection. 

He felt a hand pressing upon his chest, trembling as it pressed on his skin and he felt another high on his cheek. He remembered that cold night when they were but boys wanting to be men. Robb had told him of his desire to make a stark out of the snow and he wanted so very much to believe him. He wanted to but a bastard would always be a bastard and one as filthy as to desire his brother, his kin. Well, he's simply not worth the name but he had smiled and agreed with Robb. He was younger than Robb but his brother's eyes held warmth in them, shielded from the cruelty that the world held for a bastard like himself. For the first time, Jon found something to thank the gods for and he prayed. He swore to the gods that he would desire nothing but happiness for his love and yet he desired more. 

He desired for his brother, lusted after him and desecrated his sacred image in his mind. He felt sick of himself, and more than once contemplated ending it all. Why stay when they're trying to drive him towards the end? But he had so much more to fear than the cruel words and gestures, the mockeries and sneers. More to live for, his brother. One day he swore he would be useful. He would make this useless life such that his brother might be benefitted. That kept him going when nothing else did. Then he saw a vision of the white walkers and he swore as a night watcher to protect the wall from the creatures, to preserve something that kept his brother safe. For twenty years he'd stayed there, nigh and day of foraging, making treaties with the outlanders with no fear as he felt peace in the idea of death. Twenty years and they had eradicated the night walkers and Jon finally had time to rest and look back to winterfell. Two more weeks before he had the visions.

Night watchers who fled were executed. He was recognized as the greatest hunter and now he would be hunted. He left everything he had but his sword, cloak, and his dire wolf. Ghost had grown tired of the endless cold too and as they both travelled south Jon wondered what it held for them. The red wedding...a cold wind made him shiver and he called to the snow. He had learned many a thing up north. A targayen...that's what he was and how fitting, a lost lineage for a bastard son. All dead and waiting for the last of their clan, if he can even be called that. Ghost loped through the forest ahead of him. The bridge was mere paces ahead of them and a smile had taken home in his face. He was old and tired now, in his thirties but it was a long time after serving the night watch for twenty years. He had seen more than others and done so much more. He padded through the walls not bothering to greet the traitors who would slay his brother. He castes a dark spell upon the earth and set the house ablaze a blue flame. Screams from the rooms of the many daughters of the keeper filled the air and he smiled. These women had not spared his beloved and they sought ill, they deserved what they got. 

The keeper himself was in the banquet hall where the red wedding was set to take place. Jon strode faster and came upon what could only be the start of the end. Immediately, he called for the flames and destroyed those who he could without setting what was his on fire. He drove himself in front of his brothers fair maid and took what was hers, took the death that would bring his brother to his knees and turned it into his own demise. Perhaps now he would receive his brothers gratitude. Perhaps now, he would love him? The delusions of a dying man knew no bounds. He found himself smiling as he pulled the knife from his chest and plunged it into the assassin. "Hope that we don't meet in the other side brother." For truly. They were brothers, useless people who did as they were hidden to and had nothing but cold ice flowing through their veins. He ignored the flowing blood and seeked Robb, reaching him right before the arrow did. He covered his brother and found the hall flooded with battle, lady stark right in the middle of it. He resented her, how he hated her but he was of no consequence and he kept up with the battle, destroyed what he had to to reach the lady and bring her to safety. The house of stark was stronger and shortly after, the keeper had lost everything even his life. 

Jon snow had fallen then, exhausted and gravely wounded. Ghost limped over to him and he saw the gash on her side bleeding profusely. He let her lay on his lap and stroked her fur. He felt at peace, he found he didn't mind the death around him as long as it meant his brother was safe. He looked at the ground with no remorse and saw his brother walking towards him. "My king, how you've grown." Robb graced him with a smile, for that was what he was. King of the north, Jon longed to see him victorious but he ached for peace. "Brother, you've come a long way." No allegiances, no banners to raise, men of the night watch. He hummed in response, his vision was darkening but his visage remained relaxed. "I have called for the healers. Let me help you out of those." Jon held his brothers hand inches away from his tunic, darker as blood poured from his veins. "Nothing they can do for me. Let them heal the others." He tightened his hold. At the very least, he could say he died holding his beloved. 

"J-Jon, what are you doing here?" How did you know what was happening. He just smiled, still the same innocence in his brother's voice. He couldn't feel his hand anymore and he regretted that. He felt hands pressing on his chest. He felt no pain, only a twinge of something as he heard sounds, as if he were under the water. He succumbed to its calling. And with it the fire burnt itself to the ground, ashes called to ashes and vanished into the wind. No traces of whatever had destroyed the halls. Jon felt a hand on his chest, the ghost of his brother calling to him and a single teardrop fell from his eye. If only he'd gotten here sooner, it wouldn't be revenge but salvation that he'd have brought. He held that hand and bowed his head for the last time.


End file.
